Not Quite Pendragon Red
by dfriendly
Summary: There's another joust, which means Arthur needs another token. Post 2x13. GwenxArthur, with some Leon.


**Title:** Not Quite Pendragon Red

**Fandom:** _Merlin_

**Rating:** PG

**Characters/Pairings:** Arthur/Gwen, Leon

**Word Count:** 865

**Spoilers:** For 2x02 and a costume detail of S3.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Merlin_.

**Summary:** There's another joust, which means Arthur needs another token.

**A/Ns:** Written for the Drabble Challenge 3 at the LJ comm ag_fics. This got second place – (thanks to those who voted). The challenge's theme was "Lost Year" because of news that S3 would take place one year after 2x13. My fic's not really accurate for what's probably going to happen with S3. But I felt like fluff.

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Gwen answered the knock at her front door to find a familiar cloaked man.

"Arthur," she gasped, quickly letting him in and shutting the door. "What are you doing here?"

The prince lowered his hood and beamed. "Last year I received a token and now I'm afraid I can't win this jousting tournament without the luck of another one."

Gwen smiled back at him. "I had no idea you were so superstitious."

"We knights are _very_ superstitious people, Guinevere."

"And what reason do _I _have for giving you a token?"

"Because I will repay you in kind."

"Exactly how?"

"The same way I did last year." The side of Arthur's mouth twitched.

Gwen felt her cheeks warm. But then she composed herself and looked him in the eye.

"A meager payment, my lord."

A grin cracked across her face and he laughed loudly.

"Which goes to show my desperation for a token. I thought you might take pity on me."

Gwen pretended to consider it for a moment, before making way to her sewing basket. "It's lucky I have always been one who believed in charity, then." She selected a short strip of leftover fabric from the dress she was making. Pale pink. She couldn't help her smirk at the color.

Arthur held out his wrist to her, palm up, keeping his elbow tucked by his side so that she had to stand close to him as she tied it on.

"Thank you, Guinevere," he whispered, catching one of her wrists in his grasp as she tried to bring back her hands.

And he kissed her, almost as chastely as their first kiss… _Almost_.

"You let me win, my lord."

Arthur smirked at Leon over his goblet. "Why on earth would you think that?"

"Because it is the only way I _could_ have won." Leon gave Arthur a meaningful look. _Because Leon had planned to lose on purpose to Arthur, as he had always done in the past. _

"I assure you, Leon. I don't know what kind of man would purposely throw a match, but I am not one of them."

Leon shook his head, unable to keep the smile off his face. "What I don't understand is why."

Arthur shrugged and frowned. "I'm sure you would have won in a fair joust."

"Really?" Leon asked suspiciously.

"That Sir William of Deira, however… Pity he wasn't here this time so we could know the _real_ champion of Camelot."

Leon said nothing as Arthur finished off his wine and set it on the table beside them, making something catch Leon's eye.

"I'm not sure if that's quite your color, my lord."

Arthur smiled as he looked down at the pink fabric around his wrist, poking out from underneath his sleeve.

"Enjoy your feast, Leon. You deserve it," Arthur said with clap on the knight's shoulder.

Leon didn't see Arthur again until the next day.

"Guinevere."

She turned, finding Arthur standing in a dark alcove.

"What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you."

He reached out his hand, beckoning her into the shadows.

Gwen smiled, despite her sigh. She then tucked the empty tray that she was supposed to be refilling in the kitchens under her arm and stepped into the alcove.

He said nothing, bringing up his hand to stroke her cheek.

"It seems my tokens aren't very good," she whispered. "Last year you were injured; this year you lost."

Arthur bent down, pressing a kiss below her ear before answering. "Well you see, there's an upside to losing."

Gwen arched an eyebrow. "I didn't think of you as the type to see good in losing."

"But there is." Arthur spoke between kisses down her throat. "If I'd won, I would have to be the honorary guest. People would be offering me congratulations all night. I'd have to make countless retellings of my victory…"

"It sounds dreadful," she said wryly.

"It's very exhausting, Guinevere. I would know."

Gwen's heart fluttered while his mouth lingered just above the swell of her breasts.

"I see."

Arthur sucked lightly on her collarbone, moving across to her opposite shoulder.

"And there's another thing."

"What?"

"When you're not the center of attention, you're able to slip away without being noticed."

"Why would you want to do that?" Her tone was breathy and far from the pure innocence she'd been aiming for.

He leaned into her other ear, his breath hot and sultry. "Because I would rather spend the feast in this alcove with you."

Gwen's grin was immediately covered by Arthur's mouth.

A few weeks after the joust, Leon was on the training field, discussing something with the prince when the younger man suddenly paused strangely.

"Is something wrong, my lord?"

Leon looked in the direction of Arthur's glance to the people passing by on the path. He then noticed that the pink dress of a servant that looked a similar color to the prince's mysterious token. It was the handmaid with the dark curls and warm smile who had worked for Lady Morgana.

Arthur shook his head, as if clearing it, and smiled without reason. "Momentarily distracted."

Perhaps it was just coincidence.

As Leon learned some years later, it was not.


End file.
